They made their way to the back where a service elevator waited for them. There were another two nurses—a man and a woman—with no weapons, but definitely some grumpy looks on their faces.
Fantine heard the wind howling outside as she stepped onto the elevator car. She figured there must be something open above them—a vent or a door. Made a mental note to avoid going anywhere above the main floor if she managed to get out of this.
“You people aren’t worried about this storm?” Fantine asked.
“They always blow these things out of proportion,” Placido answer.
The female nurse shrugged. “I don’t know, they had like an evacuation order or something.”
Her tail, a broad fella with a deep tan, waved the comment off. “They only do that shit so nobody can sue them if things go really bad. They know it won’t be as bad as they say, but you know how people are, always covering their asses.”
The conversation died there and everyone stood in wait as the elevator went down to the farm. Fantine wondered how many floors below they were. Hell, who could be fronting the money for an organization like this? Could the Chinese be this desperate?
The elevator opened into a hallway that wasn’t familiar. The nurses and Fantine’s tail stepped out. The tail handed Fantine’s .22 to Placido.
Placido nodded and tucked the pistol into his waist strap. “Get everything out. I’ll call once we’ve finished up here.”
The elevator doors closed again. Further down they went, but this time the trip wasn’t as long.
Fantine stared at the ceiling of the elevator car. “I’m sort of amazed at all of this; it’s like a secret lair. I didn’t even notice when I left before. How many floors down are you guys?” She knew damn well, but her nerves were fried. Talking was a better choice than screaming.
Placido rolled his eyes. “Old elevator only seems that way. Moves like a fucking caracol.”
“You have your people moving product,” Fantine said as the elevator doors slid open again. “I thought you weren’t worried.”
“I am cautious. Maybe overly so.” Placido pushed her out to the familiar hall. “To ignore any outside variables would be foolish.”
“That why you killed Pete?” her voice cracked when she said his name.
“I killed your friend because he was an outside variable and because it served to make you understand the gravity of your situation.” Placido cocked his head to the side. “It didn’t hurt that he was Aleksei Uryevich’s boy too.” He nearly spat Aleksei’s name out.
Fantine felt like an idiot. There was potential history there. No wonder Placido was so quick to accept her terms. No use in asking questions about it, though. Her business with Aleksei was finished. Hopefully, the end of her business with Placido would be more civil.
“I understand that you seem to be selling cheap sperm to people who want top flight product,” Fantine said, “Like giving Jack Daniel’s to a blind guy who wants single malt, but never tasted it.”
Placido laughed. “It is a little like that, yes, but I also like to think of myself as a patriot. I undercut a known enemy. Can you imagine the generation to come from these samples? The idiots that these people will be raising? In two generations, China would be the same as America. I’m doing us all a favor.”
“That’s setting the bar a little high, no? Or are you giving yourself too much credit?”
Placido shrugged. “How you see this doesn’t matter, Miss Park.” He led her down the hall and back to a different office. Snatched her bag from her shoulder and then took the backpack as well. There were still screams coming from other closed doors. They must have been working overtime to literally milk whatever they could before bailing. Placido opened the door and shoved Fantine inside. “I’ll be back. I hope what is in these bags proves to be useful.”
Jae was seated on the couch, awake and seemingly unharmed. He tried to stand up. “Fan…”
Fantine helped her father to his feet. ‘Easy, easy.” She looked over her shoulder and reached under her shirt producing the pen knife.
“Fan,” Jae said, “Are you insane? They have guns here.”
She frowned and slipped the knife back under her bra strap. He was right. Fantine threw her arms into the air. “There’s no way they’re going to let us leave this place, Dad. We need to do something.”
“We need to wait.”
Fantine stared at her father. “For what?”
Jae shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t think we should risk our lives trying to run.”
“I risked our lives saying yes to this entire fucking mess, Dad. We’re well past worrying about whether the next move is dangerous. This is all dangerous.”
“You didn’t have a choice.”
“Stop making excuses for me, Dad. You did that for Mom and it never changed a damn thing.” Fantine rubbed her eyes and face. “Sorry, that’s talk for another time.”
Jae nodded his eyes lowered. “It’s okay, Fan”
Fantine went to the door and pressed her ear against it. The only thing audible was the hum of multiple machines, but no footsteps or voices. She moved her hand over the door knob and turned.
Of course the door popped open. The dickhead that was tailing her and nearly wrenched her damn shoulder from the socket stood smiling at Fantine. “You got plans?” He produced a gun from his side holster and aimed it at her. It looked a sight bigger than the one she brought along—and lost.
Fantine didn’t know how to fight. She didn’t know how to disarm a person holding a gun to her face. All she knew was how to open locks and crack the occasional website. Still, they couldn’t stay in this place. Even if she had to give up breathing, her father would get out of here. That decision was made the minute she walked into the clinic and since then she was on a shit decision streak, a dumb move for a noble cause didn’t seem too demanding.
Fantine didn’t give the tail a chance to react. She reached up with her left hand and pushed the gun away from her and her father. Leaned in and chomped down on the bastard’s ear as hard as she could.
The shock of it earned her a scream, but best of all, he dropped the gun.
“Dad, run!” Fantine started to punch anywhere her fist could land. She bit, scratched, and shoved.
The tail managed to get his bearings long enough to hit and shove back, but the adrenaline dulled it all for Fantine. She was a rat trapped in a corner and while this asshole outweighed her and could certainly outfight her, she’d leave a mark before she died.
“Fucking, bitch.” The tail popped her on the chin with a hard right hook.
Fantine sprawled back and lost her footing. She couldn’t tell whether her father was in the room anymore, but she hoped he was smart enough to run for it. If he made it outside, he could get help. Sure, the streets were empty and the weather was dangerous as all hell, but there had to be someone—anyone—out there to help. There had to be first responders checking the street for homeless or something. It was New York, someone would be out.
The tail mounted Fantine and smiled down at her. He smelled like Axe body spray and weed. His face was scratched and his cheek was missing a decent chunk—it’d leave a scar. That was her victory right there. The tail lifted both arms, set to hammer his fists into her skull.
Then the gunclap came.
Then the tail’s face contorted—a frozen howl with no noise. A sharp exhale of breath came from him as his lungs contracted for the final time.
The tail reached behind him and clawed at something in his back. A high wheeze emerged from his throat and he fell over. The wheeze continued and he kept pawing at the invisible monkey that had mounted him. As if scratching enough would resolve that itch.